Page 32 of Wretched Choices

As soon as we enter the suite, I slip off my shoes on my way to the bathroom, leaving them behind me. As soon as I close the bathroom door, I pull on the zipper of my dress, letting it fall to my feet, leaving me in nothing but a G string. I’m about to enter the shower when the door opens, and all the air leaves my lungs when Salvatore appears.

I still and so does Salvatore. His blue eyes darken as his eyes capture every inch of my naked body.

The heat of his gaze burns my skin, turning me into an instrument ready to play just for him. My belly flutters, my core tingles, and the slickness between my legs begs me to rub my thighs together.

A shiver passes through me, and I swallow as I focus and remember where I am. In the bathroom, with Salvatore wearing only my panties. “Do you mind?”

He chuckles. “I do, actually. You are now my wife.” He takes a step inside, closing the door behind him. “I own you, Bella,” he says in a deep, low voice.

“No, you don’t. I don’t belong to anybody. I’m not property.”

“But you do.” He takes a step toward me, and I take a step back until my ass hits the sink where he traps me between his arms. I close my eyes, exhaling in defeat. Why do I always find myself in the same situation with him?

“Do you want to know how I know that?” His eyes search my face, and he looks from my neck to my cheeks that are burning. He leans down, his eyes penetrating mine, his lips inches from mine as he speaks. “Your red neck, your flushed cheeks, and the want in your eyes. You look like a flower ready to be plucked.” His lips brush my cheek, his breath brushing my ear, and the back of his hand almost touching my aching nipples.

“And if I touched you right now, if I put my hand on your delicate body, you would tremble. If I pulled your panties to the side, I could see how wet you are. With just a touch, your thighs would be dripping, and that is how I know I own you."

My weak knees cannot take his rough voice and penetrating gaze. If I weren’t backed against the sink, I would be a puddle on the floor beneath his legs.

“Ever since that day in my office, I’ve wondered how you would taste, how you would feel. And don’t think you can fool me; I know you’re thinking the same.”

He’s right. This is what I always wanted. What my mama told me about how it should feel. I wanted to feel weak in my knees and butterflies in my stomach. I can still feel his hands touching mine from that day in his office. But he is the wrong man.

It shouldn’t be him.

This is my worst nightmare.

“You are delusional,” I bite out, trying to deny everything he said.

He backs away from me a little, narrowing his eyes. “No, I think I’m in a perfect state of mind. You, on the other hand, need to look in the mirror and tell yourself the truth. I’ll just wait for you to beg me to touch you. To fuck you.” He pushes away from me, leaving me aching and in denial.

thirteen

Salvatore

I went into the bathroom to tell her that her father wants to have a video call to make sure she is in the pictures we send him. I should have known she would be naked. But I’m a bastard. I wanted to see her, to see her reaction, and I got my answer. It was a power play.

The call will be on secured line and on the record. After Isabel has talked to her father, I need to make a deal with him.

I didn’t need to wait long for Isabel to show up. Dressed in an over-sized T-shirt and leggings, with messy hair that falls down her back and a clean face, she walks barefoot into the livingroom. Gone is the flush in her cheeks and the redness in her neck. Her face is straight, composed.

“Ready? I ask.

She crosses her arms in front of her, staring down at me. “Why does he want to talk to me? You sent him the pictures.” Her brows furrow. “I never agreed to this. The whole point of me marrying you is so I don’t have to see him again.”

“He wants to be sure we didn’t fake anything. For all he knows, you could be your doppelganger.”

She murmurs something to herself, shaking her head. “Let's get it over with.”

I tap the place beside me on the sofa, and she joins me. I press the call button and wait. Ruggeri answers after two rings. He doesn’t look as old as I expected. He isn’t alone. There is a man beside him. They both look at us in disbelief. Mostly, at Isabel.

“Isabella, mia cara. It is you.” A flicker of a smile crosses his lips.

Isabella stiffens beside me. “Papa.”

He leans closer to the camera. His eyes widen. “There wasn’t a place I didn’t search for you.”

“I’m sorry, Papa. I needed to leave. I couldn’t stay, not after Mama died.”

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